Why I'm Home
by OMWG
Summary: James didn't have the best parents in the world, and Kendall knew that. But it's hard to apologize when you're in two different states. NO slash!


**ONE MAN WRITING GAMES NOTE: **Alright, so I feel kind of bad for writing this. I mean, I'm so cruel to James. ): But a lot of people are cruel to their favorite characters (ahem, Favorite Character Mutilation Disorder, or FCMD), and it's not like Monster is different. I should probably be updating that right now, but I'm halfway done so…anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoy this Kendall/James FRIENDSHIP story and review.

And uh, by the way, there's one point during this angsty one-shot where it jumps forward like…two hours, maybe. You'll see.

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Big Time Rush or its characters in any way.

…

James sat in his shared room with Kendall alone, silently staring at his computer screen with a look on his face that seemed to nail shock, horror, and disbelief all at once.

This could _not_ be happening. This _did not _happen. This _had_ to be some sort of cruel, sick joke.

Though why someone would joke about this was beyond James. This wasn't a joking matter. And even if this was supposed to be a joke, it wasn't April Fool's day. It was not even March yet, for crying out loud! Either his aunt sent him this email because she was a sadistic freak, or what she said was true.

James didn't _think_ his aunt was a sadistic freak.

_Oh God,_ James thought miserably. _She's not fucking with me. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. She's not fucking with me. _

He sat just staring at the email for a few more minutes, the same thing coursing through his mind over and over again. _This is fucking real. This is really fucking real. This is seriously happening, and it's seriously happening to me._ The words on the screen started merging together, becoming impossible for him to read. He furiously wiped at his eyes, trying his best not to let any tears escape. _They _did not deserve his tears. And besides; he did not want his friends to question his red, puffy eyes when he walked out of the room.

He shut the lid of his laptop, seeming to stare at absolutely nothing for a moment. What was going to happen to him now? His brother? He knew he _had_ to go to Minnesota for at least a week, but then what? Could he really come back to L.A. after what had happened?

_Yes, you can._ He thought to himself. _Shane is old enough to take care of himself, and if not, he can just come here with you. Or he could move in with Aunt Tiffany in Seattle…it's going to be fine. You don't need to give up anything. You're going to live out your dreams, and Shane's going to be fine while you do that._

But even as he reassured himself of this, he felt guilty. What kind of brother would he be if he did that? It was only him and Shane now, and they had to stick together.

James didn't know what to do. He was just a kid. A kid who was handed the worst just to see what would happen. And it wasn't fucking fair.

He pushed himself off his bed and walked over to his dresser. He pulled out his lucky comb and swiped it through his hair a few times, at least taking pride in the fact that his hair looked good. On the other hand, he looked extremely pale compared to his normal golden tan. There was nothing he could really do about that, though, and he sighed as he looked around his room for a duffel bag.

Once he had found one, he started packing all of his clothes and necessary hair care products inside. If he was going to go to his home town for a week, he might as well look good doing it. Once he had finished his packing, he zipped his bag up and left it by the door so he would remember it.

Sighing again, he turned back to his dresser where his keys were laying. He picked them up and turned to the door, almost tripping on the duffel bag he had just set down there. _Definitely won't be forgetting that,_ he thought to himself, reaching for the doorknob.

He went to open his bedroom door so he could leave, but another thought occurred to him the minute his hand hit the doorknob.

_How am I going to tell Kendall, Carlos, and Logan?_

But he decided to deal with that later and left his bedroom without looking back.

…

Kendall was lazily lounging on the couch an hour or so after James told them he had some "business" to take care of. Kendall had no idea what he was doing, nor did he really care (this was because he assumed that James had run out of hair-care products and went on an emergency run for hairspray; he did look a little pale). He was flipping through channels on their television, ignoring the couch shaking every minute or so.

The couch was shaking because Logan and Carlos were currently wrestling on the rug beside the couch. They would constantly ram into the couch every now and again, and after yelling at them to stop with no avail, Kendall simply got used to it. He liked to think of it as a massage chair, even though his two best friends bumping into where he was sitting was hardly relaxing.

He didn't even know _why_ his friends had engaged in this sudden wrestling match. Kendall didn't strike Logan as the one to start abusing another willingly, so he assumed Carlos must have done something to really piss him off. Either that, or Logan made some snide remark to Carlos and, in return, Carlos had pounced on him. Kendall wasn't really paying attention to them when the fight broke out. He was too busy watching the new episode of General Hospital (which was something he would never openly admit).

Sometime in the midst of Carlos and Logan's wrestling and Kendall searching to find something new to watch now that his show was over, James entered the apartment with a solemn look on his face.

Kendall looked up and Carlos and Logan stopped wrestling when they heard the door shut. James ignored all three of them, throwing his keys on the counter in their kitchen. He immediately turned to the refrigerator, pulling out a pudding cup. Even given the circumstances, pudding cups _always_ made James feel better, even if just a little bit. As he walked over to where his friends were, the two on the floor frozen mid head-lock continued their quarreling.

Kendall smirked as he saw James with a pudding cup in his hands. "So," He said as James threw himself onto the chair opposite him. "Were they out of hairspray, or what?"

James looked up, snapping himself out of his thoughts. He had barely registered there were other people in the room when he walked in, and he definitely didn't expect someone to start talking to him. He was completely out of it today and hadn't even heard what Kendall had said. He took a spoonful of pudding before speaking. "What?" He asked.

"Hairspray," Kendall said, turning his attention away from the TV after deeming everything unwatchable. "Were they out of it at every store you went to? You look pretty glum."

James stared at his friend questioningly. Did he tell him that he was going out for hairspray or something? _Oh,_ he thought to himself. _He probably thought I was out of it after I rushed out of here like I did._

"I didn't go out to buy hairspray," He said, taking another large spoonful of the chocolate goodness. Kendall shrugged, sighing as he turned back to the TV. He _really _didn't feel like watching an episode of Hannah Montana. He went searching through the channels again, a frustrated look appearing on his face.

James finished the last of his pudding and sighed, crunching the cup between his fingers. He got up and threw it away, only to retrieve another cup from the fridge. After peeling the lid off and licking the pudding stuck to it, he resumed his position in the seat across Kendall's. His spoon was halfway to his mouth when Kendall spoke.

"Someone's eating a lot of pudding," He noticed, eyeing James' pudding cup. "What's up?" He asked.

"I went to talk to Gustavo." James looked down at Carlos pulling Logan's hair, causing Logan to scream and elbow Carlos in the chest. If it were another day, he might have laughed.

Kendall did, before pushing himself off the couch and trudging to the beverage cooler to grab himself a soda. After finding a can of root beer and satisfying his thirst with a sip, he turned to look back at James. "What would you need to talk to Gustavo about?" He asked nonchalantly, stepping over their wrestling friends as he made his way back to his seat. After sitting down with soda in hand, he added, "Please don't tell me you convinced him to re-name the band 'Big Time Bandannas' and make us wear different colored ones!" He joked, taking another sip of his soda.

James forced a smile. "Ha-ha, very funny, Kendall." He said, eating some more of his pudding. Kendall laughed as well, draining some more of his soda. He let the words hang in the air for a few minutes, waiting until he was sure Kendall was doing something else. When he assumed his friend had completely forgotten about him, he spoke.

"Don't kill me," He warned, but didn't look up to see if Kendall had even heard him or was looking at him in confusion. "But I actually went to tell him that I'm flying down to Minnesota for the week." He said quietly, looking down in his pudding. He prayed to whoever was watching over him that Kendall didn't hear him. But looking up from his half-eaten pudding cup, he saw Kendall coughing on his soda.

_He definitely heard me,_ He thought to himself. And looking down at his other two friends who were wrestling not even a minute ago, they heard him, too.

"Why are you going to Minnesota for a week?" They all asked simultaneously, but Kendall had trouble getting the words—and root beer—out of his system.

James looked down again, moving his spoon around in his pudding cup. He knew if he looked up, he would see the other members of Big Time Rush staring at him, waiting for his answer. He hoped that if he didn't, they would all drop it and leave him alone. He _prayed_ that they would drop it and leave him alone. Today wasn't James' lucky day.

"James," Kendall said aggressively, moving to the other end of the couch to get closer to where James was sitting. "_Why the hell are you going to Minnesota for a week?"_ He demanded, staring at James. James could feel his best friend's eyes on him, needing for him to answer, but he could barely find the words to speak. The question was left unanswered again as James continued to stare into his cup.

"Come on, James." Logan said, breaking the silence in the room. James looked up to see that Carlos and Logan had taken seats on the couch. He also noted that all three of his friends were staring intently at him. Feeling self-conscious, he looked back down at his food.

"Because there's some things I need to take care of," He said finally. He could still feel all of their stares on him, and he was feeling incredibly uncomfortable at this point. Despite loving singing and being on the stage, he didn't like it when everyone stared at him when they were waiting for him to do something. With him singing, he could get himself lost in the beat of the music and forget all about it. When people needed an answer from him, he felt queasy.

"What's in Minnesota that you need to take care of?" Carlos asked, puzzled.

James looked up from the contents of his cup. Carlos and Logan looked concerned. So did Kendall, but annoyance was also laced into his features. "Stuff," He said, looking at them. He noticed that Kendall now looked extremely pissed.

"Damn it, James!" Kendall said angrily, causing James to look at him, confused. "Can't you just tell us what's so important in Minnesota that you have to ditch us?" He stood up with so much force and so quickly that James jumped a bit in his seat. But looking at the angry expression on Kendall's face, he slammed his pudding cup down on the table, standing up as well. He felt an unexpected anger wash through him, hardly expected to get this mad over what his friend had said.

But he was.

_What the hell? _He thought furiously to himself as he stood to his full height (which, he noted to himself, was slightly taller than Kendall. This made him feel better him some way, though he didn't know why). _I have no fucking idea why Kendall is so pissed at me. He has no right to be! _

"What's your problem?" He asked harshly, staring his friend down.

"What's _my_ problem?" Kendall demanded, coming a bit closer to James. "You're the problem! You're leaving _Hollywood_ to go back to _Minnesota. _I'm the reason you're here! And now you're leaving to go back to stupid Minnesota for some dumb reason—"

"Going to Minnesota to take care of family stuff is a dumb reason?" He asked incredulously, hurt that his friend would say that after what happened. But he tried not to let his hurt show as he continued fighting with his best friend.

"Well maybe you could have told us that!" Kendall retorted angrily, and not even he knew where this anger was coming from. He knew James was upset about something, and he should have let him finish before blowing up on him. But he couldn't stop himself now. He was just so _mad_ at James for **whatever **and he couldn't hold anything in anymore. "You're here because of _me_, and now you're ditching us to go crawling back to mommy and daddy. We have songs to record and photo shoots to go to all of this week! You can't leave now!"

James shrunk back a bit, but refused to back down. Kendall's words were harsh, and he wasn't the only one who noticed. Both Logan and Carlos were staring at Kendall with surprise.

"Wow, it's nice to know where your priorities are," James said calmly, although inside he was burning. "Sorry to rain on your parade, but Gustavo cancelled everything he had planned for us this week. _He_ understands that I need to take care of things back home." He smiled triumphantly before adding, "Funny how the music producer who hates me understands me more than my own best friend." He pushed by Kendall roughly, intent on going into the room he shared with his "best friend" to just grab his duffel bag and leave. He had so many things to sort out, and his fight with Kendall was already out of his mind and onto what he had to do when he arrived in Minnesota. But he wasn't too immersed in his thoughts to hear what Kendall said behind him.

"I don't know how _anyone_ understands you. No one understands why you're so fucking obsessed with bandannas, or how you fuss over your hair like some diva girl. _I _don't understand why I'm friends with you, or why I made Gustavo bring you with me to Los Angeles. But what I _really_ don't understand is why you're leaving it all to go deal with your parents. They're probably embracing your absence like it's the best goddamn thing that's ever happened to them, because face it: _it probably is_." Kendall didn't know why he was being this harsh, but he was just so angry with James that he couldn't stop himself. "I know this next week without you is going to be the time of my life."

"_Kendall,_" Logan said, as if **Kendall **were the one who were hurt by the other's words. But both James and Kendall ignored him.

The moment Kendall said this to James, he immediately felt regret. He knew better than anyone that James didn't have the best parents in the world, and it was really low to say something like that to James. But he was just so _mad _at James right now! How could he throw everything away for people who didn't think twice about when they left for Los Angeles? They needed him _here_. And even though Kendall felt horrible and selfish and just angry, he couldn't take back what he said. And he wasn't going to back down from this fight with James.

James, on the other hand, was incredibly glad that his back was turned to his friends. He didn't want Kendall to see him flinch at his words, or how James' eyes immediately welled up with tears about what Kendall said about his parents. He blinked them furiously away, turning around to face Kendall and the others.

Carlos and Logan were staring at James apologetically, something that James should probably get used to. But James barely registered them, for he was staring intently at Kendall's hard face.

James had tried his best to try and hide how much Kendall had hurt him, but he knew he hadn't succeeded when he saw Kendall's face soften the _tiniest_ bit. He didn't care though. The only thing that mattered now was keeping his voice even.

"You know what, Kendall?" He said, staring at his supposed best friend. "_Fuck you_." He whispered harshly. "You don't even know what the **fuck **you're talking about." He spat, and turned around to walk down the hall to he and Kendall's room. And no matter how much James wished that Kendall would just drop it, he should have known better from his aggressive friend.

"Well, maybe I would if you actually told us anything!" Kendall screamed as James grabbed his bag from next to the door. He was glad he placed it in such a convenient spot. But even as he slung it over his shoulder, he still chose to ignore Kendall, brushing right past him to the kitchen to grab another pudding cup. Kendall seemed to get angrier at this, and marched right up to James, turning him around with force. Carlos and Logan watched on in surprise at what seemed like a simple conversation turned into a full-blown fight.

"Why do you need to go to Minnesota, James?" Kendall demanded, staring his best friend straight in the eye. "What's so bad that you need to go crawling back to mommy and daddy?" James pushed Kendall away from him roughly, staring back at Kendall with as much as intensity as Kendall was staring at him with.

"Mommy and daddy are _dead_!" James spat, breathing heavily.

It was completely silent. The only sound to be heard was James' breathing, which seemed to becoming more ragged. Whether it was because he was angry or about to cry, he had no idea.

Kendall could not find the words to speak, and he was glad Carlos spoke them for him. "_What_?"

James' face softened a bit as he turned to Carlos. "My parents are dead." He said, but his tone hadn't lost its harsh edge that it had when he spoke to Kendall.

The words hung in the air, none of the boys knowing how to respond to this. How could they give him pity? James absolutely _despised_ pity. Pity was something for the weak, and James Diamond was not in any way **weak**. Would they tell him they're sorry? Sorry for what? That he lost the people who created him in one foul swoop? Apologizing is just another form of pity, and James had always avoided apologies at all costs. So for someone who hated pity in any shape or form, they could not really say anything to James. Nothing at all.

"James—" Logan started, breaking the silence.

"I'm fine," Said boy interrupted. "Why should I care anyway? Kendall already confirmed that my parents didn't give a shit about me. Why should I give a shit about them?"

Kendall felt a wave of guilt wash over him. "James, I didn't mean what I said. I wouldn't have said it if I knew…" He trailed off, reaching out a hand to place it on James' shoulder.

James swatted it away. "Yes you would have. Because ever since we got here, _you're_ the one who's always directed everything. You never let the rest of us do anything on our own without you having an input."

"That's not true," Kendall said, frowning. He didn't control the band. Did he?

"Yes it is, and you're just mad because you're not running the show here."

Kendall suddenly became very angry again. "You don't know how _I_ feel, James. You are not _me_. The only reason why I'm mad is because you feel the need to isolate yourself when there are three people in this room who would do anything for you! You're mad because you think no one cares, when you're in the same room as the three people who probably care the most about you."

James scoffed, laughing bitterly. "Correction: two people in this room care about me, none of whom I am talking to right now."

"We're _best friends_, James. How could you think I don't care about you?" Kendall asked.

The tall brunette laughed again, more bitter contained in the gesture than actual joy. "Need I remind you of what you said just five minutes ago? Let's see if these words ring a bell: 'I don't know how anyone understands you. I don't understand why I'm friends with you or why I convinced Gustavo to bring you here. I don't understand why you're leaving us behind to go deal with people who don't care about you. They probably love having you gone, because it's the best damn thing that's ever happened to them. I know this next week without you will be awesome.' Do you not remember saying that?"

"Those weren't my exact words," Kendall said guiltily. Why did he always have to fuck things up?

"Yeah, but not too different from what you actually said." James grabbed the strap on the duffel around his shoulder and began to walk away. "I'll call you when I get there, and let you know when I can get back. That is, if I can get back." He began to stalk towards the door again.

The color drained even more so from the other boys' faces. "You mean you're not coming back?" Carlos asked.

James turned towards them again, tears in his eyes. "What choice do I have, Carlos? Me and Shane, we're—we're orphans. I'm the only one Shane has left. I can't just drop him off in a foster home and come back here! I don't have any other options." He said, defeated, turning back around.

"You can always have one of your relatives take him into custody," Logan said. "Or have him move here. You could even have him become an emancipated minor."

Logan's eyes were pleading with him. _James, pick one, just don't move back to Minnesota. I need you here. Carlos needs you here. And Kendall doesn't act like it, but he needs you here. Stay with us._

James had to hold back a sob. For the second time that day, James was extremely grateful that he was not facing his friends. He was going to break down, and it was only a matter of moments before that happened.

"I'll call you when I get there," James repeated, trying to keep his voice even. His face flushed when his voice cracked on the very last word, and he rushed out of the apartment to save himself the embarrassment.

Once outside and walking down the hallway to the elevators, James let the first tear fall from his eyes.

_Fuck._

…

Back in the apartment, Kendall was being harshly scolded by Carlos and Logan.

"What the hell is _wrong _with you?" Carlos demanded, stepping closer to Kendall.

Kendall looked down. "_Many _things," he said shamefully.

"What were you _thinking?" _asked Logan next, crossing his arms and waiting for an answer.

"Obviously nothing smart," the blonde replied, still not looking up.

"Do you have to go and be a fucking jerk all the time?" Carlos demanded again, and he had to force himself not to punch Kendall in the face. He and James were very good friends, and Carlos was very protective of the taller boy. He did not like it when people hurt James, whether it be physically or emotionally. And Kendall and James' parents must have formed a gang, because they beat the shit out of James emotionally. Carlos didn't like that.

Kendall sighed. "Apparently so,"

Logan could tell that Carlos was most likely going to explode in about thirty seconds, so he said, "Carlos, cool it." He gave the short boy a stern glare, and Carlos again tried to make himself calm down. He turned his attention to the unusually quiet blonde boy in front of him. "Kendall, what are you going to do?"

Upon hearing his name, Kendall looked up. He studied both of his friends before him.

Carlos looked absolutely _furious. _He had this look in his eye that Kendall had only seen on a few rare occasions, and he did not like that it was being directed towards him. The brown irises were burning with anger, and the tan-skinned boy was basically saying, _I'm going to kill you. I'm going to fucking kill you with an axe and put your body into an incinerator so that nobody knows what the hell happened to you and where the hell you went._ Kendall gulped a bit and turned his attention to Logan.

Kendall instantly regretted this. Logan did not hold an expression that would kill Kendall if it could, but his was much worse. He was looking at Kendall with disappointment engulfing his facial expressions. Whereas Carlos' eyes screamed death threats at him, Logan's eyes told him, _I'm so fucking disappointed in you right now. I expected a lot more from you, and you give me this._

Kendall wanted to cry. He wanted to tell Carlos to go ahead and kill him. He wanted to tell Logan that he _knows_ he fucked up, that he would do anything to take it back.

And he wanted to tell James that he was sorry, because James did not deserve being neglected by his parents all his life. He did not deserve having no family to talk to from Minnesota other than his own brother. He did not deserve to be told over email that his parents were dead, and he did not deserve for his best friend to freak out on him like a stupid idiot and say stupid, careless words. All Kendall wanted to do in the world right now was apologize to James, but Logan was waiting for an answer.

"I'm going back to Minnesota," he said without even thinking. But while Carlos looked shocked at Kendall's words, Logan smiled.

_I knew you would come through, _he thought to himself.

…

Harsh wind blowing against his face as his numb fingers fumbled for the keys to his house, James was reminded of just how much he _hated_ Minnesota, with their stupid cold winters and stupid hot summers and stupid tornadoes. If any state were to be on the "PMS Weather" list, Minnesota would be on top. Then maybe New England as a whole, because James visits family in Connecticut there and it's almost as annoying as Minnesota's weather.

James finally got his front door open, and practically ran inside, slamming the door shut behind him. It wasn't much warmer in his house than it was outside, so he immediately went for the thermostat.

After putting the heat on, James let everything sink in.

He was in _Minnesota _for the first time in _weeks. _His parents were _dead, gone, never coming back. _And his house was completely _silent._

This was a rare occurrence, for the Diamond household to be silent. Although James' parents were almost never home until ten due to extensive working hours, leaving James and Shane to fend for themselves for the better part of the day, James could always hear the TV running or Shane coursing through the house, knocking most things in his way over. But it was completely silent in his house, the only sound to be heard his own breathing.

Feeling the heat kick on, James walked into what used to be his room. He looked at the bare walls and empty shelves, recalling the day when he found out he was to be living in Los Angeles. His parents did not really care, and Shane thought it was such a great opportunity that he helped James pack everything he owned. Of course, the two brothers were sad to be parting, but Los Angeles was something that you could not give up. It was a chance to get away, something most people in Minnesota didn't have.

He looked to his old bed, walking over to it and sitting down on the mattress. It felt like years ago when he was last here, staring at pictures of people and bands who had made it big and wishing that he would get the same opportunity and be on the walls of many people's rooms. It seemed like months ago when he got home from that horrible audition, lying on this very bed and staring at those same posters, knowing that it was _Kendall_ who would be staring at him from a poster in his room. And it seemed like only weeks ago when he was laughing as he was packing them all away, thinking how he was foolish to think that Kendall would ever go to Los Angeles without him.

Kendall.

The name of his best friend sent anger coursing through his veins, causing him to be put in an even more foul mood.

Kendall had lied to him all these years, right to his face. James would always talk about how he loved to sing, how he wanted to be a pop star, and Kendall had said absolutely _nothing_ when he shared those same loves and hopes. After 12 years of friendship, Kendall could not even have the decency to tell James that, oh _yes,_ he loved to sing _too. _Isn't that great? Let's go to an audition and when you fail and I succeed, I can laugh in your face about it. Ha. Ha. _Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!_

Okay, so James knew that Kendall didn't really think like this. But the fact that Kendall's words affected him more than his own parent's death caused him to be a little irked at the boy with large eyebrows. Plus, it did not help that when he was crying on the airplane, the flight attendants were giving him sympathetic looks. Like they _knew _that James was left parent-less and that he just had a huge fight with his best friend.

Sighing, James pushed himself off of his bed. His house was finally warming up, and he was grateful. Walking out of his room, he went into his parents'. He was told that he had to gather their things together and give them to his aunts and uncles on various sides of his family. James knew that he did not want any of this stuff; why should he stop his mom and dad's brothers and sisters from taking it?

James had recently found out exactly _how_ his parents died. They were in the car, crossing over the Minneapolis Bridge when it suddenly collapsed. Their car went underwater, and they desperately tried to get out. His father or mother even kicked the windshield through, but their efforts were in vain. They, along with many other people, drowned in the cold Minnesota water.

James realized that he probably was not the only one who lost his parents. He should not feel so bad for himself. Other people were probably a hell of a lot closer to their parents than he was to his own, and he should realize that they're probably going through a lot tougher time than he was.

Going into his parents' bedroom, he took a look around. The bed was made, and almost every surface was cleared. It was eerily neat, like someone had gone in there before him and cleaned out all of his parents stuff.

His eyebrows furrowing in confusion, he walked over to his mother's closet. Looking inside, he found nothing but a few old scarves. The same situation could be found looking into his father's closet, and all of the drawers in his parents' room, and—

_Oh. My. God._

A wave of realization crashed over James, leaving him drowning in what he had just discovered. The Diamonds, the Knights, the Garcias, the Mitchells—they all lived in Little Marais_, _Minnesota. His parents were on the _Minneapolis Bridge_ when they died. Meaning, his parents were in _Minneapolis._ Minneapolis was quite a ways away from Little Marais.

All of their stuff was gone, including suitcases.

They were hundreds of miles away from their hometown when they died.

Oh God. _Oh God._

This wasn't coincidental. His parents weren't going away on some vacation when they were killed in some freak accident. Who takes all of their things on a vacation?

They were _leaving _Little Marais. Leaving Shane to fend for himself. Packing up and quitting because it had gotten too hard.

James was suddenly overwhelmed with memories of his childhood. How much he adored and looked up to his parents, painting pictures in the kitchen of him and Mommy and Daddy and Shane to give to them as presents, how he'd spend all night long on each picture like he was Picasso. He'd tell his parents all about his favorite songs and stories when his parents were actually home to care for him. He would always tell them that when he left Minnesota, he would never forget them because he loved them, so very, very much.

And the bastards told him they loved him, too.

_They told him they loved him, and they were lying straight to his face._

…

Kendall knew that his mother would completely protest against him going to Minnesota—or, at least without her. But he _needed_ to talk to James, and not on the phone or over web chat. He needed to apologize in person, maybe even let James punch him a few times. What Kendall said to James was uncalled for, and he really wanted his best friend to know that he was sorry, even if that meant a black eye for him.

So he couldn't possibly let his mother know that he was going to Minnesota for a week.

Instead, he called Kelly and asked her to arrange a flight to Minnesota for him, making up some lie about how he was going to help support James through the funeral. It wasn't a total lie, but Kelly bought it regardless and booked him a plane ticket two hours from when he called.

Kendall packed his duffel bag in a rush, thankful that his mother would not be home for a while. He did feel bad that he was leaving Carlos and Logan to deal with the Mama Knight Wrath, but there was really nothing he could do. They understood that Kendall needed to see James in Minnesota; if they had a fight similar to the one that went down between the other two best friends, they would do the same thing for one another.

So without a word of protest from either of his two friends, Kendall packed his duffel and was on his way to the airport, taking the soonest flight to Minneapolis, Minnesota. He gave his friends an apologetic smile before he left, knowing that they would have to deal with his mother. But it would be all worth it in the end.

Well, _hopefully._

…

James had nothing to do.

His Aunt Tiffany was in town to help make funeral arrangements, and Shane was sentenced to stay in her hotel with her while James cleaned out his parents' things. They would not be back until mid-afternoon tomorrow, so James was alone by himself.

It wasn't like he could do what he was supposed to; his 'parents' did that for him.

But what _could_ he do? He was all by himself. No friends, no family, no random hobo to talk too. It was already dark, so it wasn't like he could go outside and make a snowman. Then again, he would probably just pretend the snowman was his mother or father and kick its head off.

He had so much pent-up _anger_ right now that he could not even handle it.

He was angry at his parents for leaving Shane, for letting _him_ leave _them_ without putting up much of an argument. Sure, he was thrilled that his parents let him live his dream, but he would have liked it if they had at least protested a tiny bit.

Not that it mattered now. They were dead and wouldn't be calling any time soon.

James was also angry at Kendall. He had no right to get so upset with James as he did. James was only going back to their hometown to deal with custody issues, dead parents, funerals—things that a boy of sixteen should not have to worry about.

And last, James was angry at himself. For not realizing this was coming, for not protecting Shane from it, for letting Kendall get to him.

For letting himself believe for _one minute_ that his parents actually _loved_ him.

James had had it. He pushed himself off the ground and just stared at the wall for a moment, thinking that maybe it had the answers to all of his questions.

It didn't.

It was then that James let his fist fly forward towards the wall at its own accord, not even trying to stop it.

The same moment his fist hit the wall, he heard the sickening crack of his knuckles breaking. And the same moment he cried out in pain and frustration was the same moment that the doorbell rang.

Clutching his hand in pain, James made his way out of his parents' room and towards the front door. He wondered who the hell would be coming to his house at this hour. It could have been a condolence call, but usually people just sent letters instead of coming there in person. And even when they did come in person, they didn't come this late at night.

Sighing, he reached the front door and pried it open.

James did _not_ expect to see Kendall standing there, holding his own duffel and shivering his ass off.

"Hey," the boy in front of him said, his voice slightly shaky because he was shivering. "Mind if I come in?"

James wanted to tell him no, he could not come in because he was an asshole. But Kendall was _here_, in Minnesota. He was probably here to apologize. And besides; James had never had _anyone_ come to a different state just for him.

James did not say anything, but stepped aside and let the other boy in anyway. Kendall welcomed the heat of James' house openly compared to the bitter coldness of the outside world, setting his bag at the foot of the stairs.

After James shut the door, the two boys stood awkwardly in the foyer of James' house. After their particularly brutal fight this morning, neither boy really knew what to say to each other. Kendall wanted desperately to apologize, but he could not quite find the words to say to James.

Rubbing the back of his neck, James broke the silence. "So," he said, swaying back and forth on his heels.

Kendall shoved his hands into his pockets. "So,"

They fell into an awkward silence that was still entirely new to the two friends. In their twelve years of friendship, they had only had a handful of fights. Never had one of these fights turned into something so major that they would cuss at each other and resort to physical violence. Luckily, it had only progressed as far as pushing and shoving, but Kendall and James still felt like they had let it get out of hand.

"Listen, I'm sorry." Kendall said, this time being the one to break the silence. "I should not have said the things I said to you, about no one understanding you and your parents not loving you. It was just a 'heat of the moment' type of thing, and I really, _really_ regret what I said. I hope we can still be friends after I was such a jerk."

James laughed an empty laugh. "Of course we can still be friends. I am not about to let twelve years of friendship go to waste over one stupid fight." Kendall smiled. "And don't be sorry about what you said; most of it was true, anyway."

James moved past Kendall into the kitchen, whereas the shorter boys' smile faded. "James, none of what I said was true. You're a great person and your parents _did_ love you. What would make you think otherwise?"

The taller boy turned around to face his friend, his expression unreadable. "I said it earlier, Kendall, and I'll say it again using nicer words: _You don't know what you're talking about._" He turned back around again, walking to the refrigerator to get himself yet another pudding cup.

Kendall sighed in frustration. "And like _I_ said earlier, James, maybe I would if you actually told me something! You can't keep everything locked up like you are. It'll only blow up in your face."

"It already has!" James said, turning around and setting his pudding cup on the table. He paused for a second, then said, "Do you want to know how my parents died?"

Kendall said nothing, but James took his expression as a sign to go on. "Have you heard about the Minneapolis Bridge collapse yet?" His friend's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Alright, so you haven't. Well, it happened. The Minneapolis Bridge collapsed, and six people died. One third of those people happened to be people related to me."

It looked as though Kendall was about to apologize, but James cut him off. "I'm not finished, so don't go apologizing yet." Kendall snapped his mouth shut and James continued. "Their car went underwater, them going with it. The divers who dug their car up said there was some struggle; the windshield was smashed, most likely from my mom or dad kicking it to try and get out. Obviously they didn't, or we wouldn't be here right now."

"James—"

"Kendall, I'm _still_ not done. I'm trying to prove to you that you were right earlier today." Neither of the boys could believe that all of this had happened in _one_ day. James continued, "Do you remember what bridge I said collapsed?"

"Minneapolis Bridge," Kendall replied. At least he could get an A for paying attention.

"And where do we live?" James asked. "Or used to," He edited quickly.

Kendall's eyes widened. "Little Marais," James nodded. "But that's impossible. Little Marais is almost four hours away from Minneapolis."

"Exactly," James said, holding his injured hand in his right. "And don't try to say that they were just going on a little vacation to Minneapolis. I went in their room to clean their things out, and _everything_ was gone, _everything_. That's no coincidence, Kendall."

Kendall frowned; James made a pretty valid point. Why else would his parents be in Minneapolis with all of their stuff with them? But he refused to believe it. Refused to believe that the Diamonds were such horrible people that they left a twelve year old boy to fend for himself.

"They didn't love me. They didn't love Shane. It was all a _lie."_

Kendall wanted so badly to protest, to tell James he was dead wrong, but he feared it would only make things much worse. He instead focused on trying to change the subject because he did not want James to get more upset than Kendall could tell he was. His eyes wandered the room looking for something, anything to get James focused on. They finally landed on the way James was cradling his left hand with his right.

"What happened to your hand?" He asked incredulously, ideas of using this as an excuse to change the subject out of his mind. It was red and swollen and looked like it _hurt._

James looked down in surprise, almost like he had forgotten he even had a hand. "Oh," he said, trying to hide his face with his hair. "I got mad. Punched a wall,"

Kendall sighed. "Let me see it," He said, holding out his own hand. James put his injured one in Kendall's, where the shorter boy began to inspect it. He had gotten many similar injuries in hockey before, the worst being his first. He hadn't really known that you couldn't play without gloves on, and while he and James were practicing when they were eight, James' hockey stick ended up slamming into his knuckles, cracking three of them. James' hand did not look as bad, but one of his knuckles was definitely cracked.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He said, letting go of James' hand and walking over to the freezer to get some ice. "Put this on it. I'll find you an ace bandage."

While Kendall started searching through random cabinets in James' kitchen, James went to put the ice on his hand. He winced when it made contact with his skin; not only was it cold, but even the presence of something as small as an ice pack brought pain to his hand. Embarrassed, he audibly grumbled.

"I can take care of myself, you know." He told Kendall, who had his back turned to him. Upon James speaking, he stopped rummaging through the cabinets and turned to James.

"I know," He said softly, taking a step towards his friend. "I've known that for years. But it's about time you let somebody else take care of you. You're going to explode from the stress."

James knew Kendall was right, and sometimes he hated that about his friend. He always gave these little pep talks and made everyone feel better about themselves; well, most of the time. While Logan and Carlos obviously got a learning experience out of the lectures Kendall always found himself giving them, they usually made James feel like shit, though he refused to show it. It reminded James that Kendall was confident, whereas James was so insecure it hurt sometimes. It reminded James that Kendall was a good person and that he wasn't. It reminded him that he shouldn't even be living because he doesn't deserve it.

And this bit of advice from Kendall he had just receive just made him feel worse. He _couldn't_ let anyone else take care of him. There was no one _to_ take care of him. He had to be strong for his sake, for his brother's sake, or they weren't going to make it. So what if it was stressful? It was his job now that his parents were dead.

No. It had been his job ever since he was old enough to talk and walk. His parents never did _shit_ for him. They hated him and they hated Shane, and they were only lying when they told their two sons that they loved them with all of their hearts.

"I don't know how," James said now, looking down at his hand. It was red and distended and most of all, it was broken. It reminded him of himself.

Kendall's brows furrowed in confusion. "You don't know how to do what?" He asked, getting closer to James. The taller boy looked down, shielding his face with his long hair again.

"I don't know how to let anyone else take care of me," He said shamefully. "I've been taking care of myself for so long and…I just can't."

Kendall felt a wave of sympathy wash over him, and he pulled the taller boy into a hug. James stiffened at the gesture, but soon wrapped his arms around Kendall as well.

After standing like this for a few minutes, Kendall pulled back to look at James, finally knowing what he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry, James." He told the taller boy. James was about to interrupt, but Kendall beat him to it. "No, let me finish. I'm not sorry, actually. I am _so_ sorry. You're probably one of the greatest people I've ever had the good fortune of meeting. You're kind, you're funny, and you're so goddamn selfless that it kills me sometimes. You were willing to give up your dream to be famous and let _me_ have it. Shit, James. You're willing to give up your dream now to take care of Shane. I've never met anyone who would do something like you're willing to do, and I can't tell you how much I admire you."

Kendall? Admiring _him? _He hid his face from Kendall for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

"A person as good as you shouldn't have to go through this," Kendall continued, trying to see James' eyes. "As far back as I can remember, you've always been there—whether you were with your parents or not. I remember you over my house with Shane once a week because your parents were so busy, and I know that the other six days you were alone as well. You would talk about them though, James. You would just get this glint in your eye that told me that you really admired them. I wished I could have seen them more, because the way you talked about them made them seem like the greatest people in the world."

James spoke then, his voice quiet. "They were,"

"Obviously," Kendall said. "They had to have been to raise a person like you. Like I said before, you were always there for me, as far back as I can remember. When I was eight, my father died. I couldn't talk to my mom or Katie, because, well, Katie was two and I had to be strong for my mother. But _you_ were there, and you helped me through it. Not Carlos, not Logan, not my mom—_you. _I swear, James—if you hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have done."

His hair still shielding his, James said, "If I'm so great, then why'd they leave?" His voice cracked on the last word.

Kendall's heart broke. He sounded like a little child; he truly didn't understand. "I don't know, James," said Kendall, genuinely upset that he could not explain to his friend why his parents abandoned him. "I really don't know how they could have wanted to leave a great person like yourself behind. Shane, as well. The kid's personality is about as identical as you two look." It was true; Shane was the spitting image of James, only younger with a different hairstyle.

"You're lying to make me feel better, right?" James asked quietly. "I must have done something wrong—they had no other reason to leave. _I _was the problem." He turned his back to Kendall. "I never should have left Minnesota. If I had stayed here, then they would be here—alive."

Kendall shook his head violently although James could not see him. "I'm not lying, James. If you have stayed here, you would have been here _forever_. Going to Los Angeles was your chance of getting away from Minnesota, because it was the only opportunity you were going to have. Look at our parents, James." James was glad Kendall couldn't see the way he flinched at the word 'parents.' "They've lived in Little Marais all their lives. They never had the chance to get out of town like we did. Your parents _wanted_ this for you."

James began to shake with pent up emotions. "No they didn't. They wanted me to stay so that I could keep looking after Shane. They couldn't handle us, Kendall. They wouldn't have left if I had stayed."

"If they wanted you to stay just because they needed a babysitter, then you're right—I was lying." He reached out an arm and forcibly turned James around. "But I wasn't lying about _you_. Everything I said about you was one-hundred percent true. I was lying about _them._ If they were so selfish that they needed you to stay in Minnesota because they wanted a fucking babysitter, then they obviously weren't great people. It just makes _you_ a better person. If you're strong enough to give up your dreams to be a parental figure towards Shane, then it shows just how much of a heart you have. If your parents are so selfish that they have to pack up and fucking leave because they couldn't handle it, that's _their_ loss, because they just lost two of the fucking greatest sons anyone could ever have."

He couldn't take it anymore. So fucking _much_ had happened to him today, more than any person, let alone sixteen year old boy, should have to deal with.

For the second time since his parents' death, James let a tear escape. But instead of one that could easily be wiped away without a trace of it ever existing, they just kept coming. And he knew it was only a matter of time before he exploded.

James' hair was still hiding his face, but with the way the boy was shaking, Kendall could tell that James was crying and desperately trying to hide it.

Without a word, he pulled James to his own form, feeling the tall boy essentially collapse in his arms.

James was full on sobbing now, his uninjured hand clasping Kendall's shirt as if he were holding on for dear life. Kendall brought them both to the kitchen floor, letting James let everything out.

Kendall absolutely hated the fact that James had to go through this; Kendall remembers how much pain and suffering he endured when his own father died. He can't imagine losing both parents in one day, even if they never really payed that much attention to him in the first place.

Thinking of James' parents made Kendall's anger flare up, but he suppressed it in order to keep comforting James. What he wouldn't give to let the Diamonds have a piece of his mind. But that would require them to suddenly come back to life, and Kendall knew that was completely impossible.

Instead, he just let James sob, feeling his best friend's wracking body against his own. His own heart hurt to see James like this—broken, vulnerable—but he knew that he couldn't do anything to calm James down even if he wanted to. He had to let James let everything out, or the tall boy would just keep holding it in until he burst.

After thirty five minutes of shaking so violently that Kendall had to keep reassuring that James wasn't freezing his ass off, James' sobs had finally reduced to soft whimpers, and shortly after, just heavy breathing. Kendall did not say anything, and he did not need to; James would talk when he was ready.

It seemed as though he was ready now. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, hanging his head.

Kendall laughed. "Only _you_ would apologize for crying after your parents died. I think it should be the other way around."

James smiled tightly, looking up at Kendall. The blonde noticed the red, puffy eyes and how the smile in no way reached his eyes. But it was progress.

"We've never been normal, Kendall." James said. "Which is good, because I've never met anyone as obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and pudding as I am. Most people would think I was weird."

"Well, you are." Kendall joked. "But we're weird together."

James laughed softly. "We're also corny together."

Kendall laughed again. "Whatever. And by the way, you might want to put ice back on your hand—it looks like it's going to sprout legs and become a crab."

…

A week later, and Kendall and James were both back in Los Angeles—with James' little brother. It was decided that it was best for Shane to live with James in California rather than splitting the two apart again.

Legally, both were under the guardianship of Mrs. Knight, who signed the adoption papers because "the two had been in her life for so long that she sometimes forgot that they weren't her own sons." James and Shane had no problems with this at all; it was settling to actually have a parent who looked after them and cared for them.

Kendall was probably wishing that Mrs. Knight wasn't his mother, however. For going to Minnesota without her permission, Kendall, and _only_ Kendall, was grounded for the time being. He moped around the apartment for days, complaining that he was only going to apologize for James. But he was gone for a _week_ and had only told Carlos and Logan, and quite honestly, the 'Lucky Patrol' weren't so lucky when they had to deal with Mrs. Knight.

Adjusting to life with Shane had been easy for the boys. Carlos would always call the boy mini-James, what with his tall frame and same hazel eyes. The only thing Shane and James didn't have in common was James' obsession with his appearance.

It had been difficult for both boys to recover from their parents' sudden death, but they did together. James was glad that he could look after Shane again without giving up his job, and Shane was glad that his brother didn't have to give up doing what he loved just for a 12-year old boy.

Every night before going to bed, James would pull out a collection of what he had gathered from his house back in Little Marais. He found the old pictures he used to paint for his parents, staying up all night just to perfect one picture. He also had found the songs he used to write, most of them about how he loved something like grilled cheese or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He had even written one about Kendall being his best friend.

All of these old memories made James smile, even if it was hard to do so.

Despite what James has believed, his parents had to have loved him. Why else would they have kept all of these pictures and songs?

But that seed of doubt in the back of his mind always reminded him otherwise: _Sure, they had kept the things that you made for them. But if they really loved you…_

_Wouldn't they have taken them with them when they left Minnesota?_

…

_Why I'm Home by Go Radio_

_I'd paint you pictures all night long  
And tell you tales of our every song  
And let you know that you're the reason why I'm home  
Or I could quote a page of poetry  
Show you all you mean to me  
And we'd go falling somewhere faster  
Knowing we don't want to ever fall at all_

Just don't think that this will be easy  
Saying that you love me  
Lying tongues are clumsy  
And don't speak when one more word would kill me  
Saying that you love me  
Lying tongues are clumsy

But who am I to say  
That every breath we take  
Won't be another pointless kiss  
We gave away  
When what we love we burn  
Is from the ashes we all yearn  
To be the phoenix that rises up from the flames

And don't think that this will be easy  
Saying that you love me  
Lying tongues are clumsy  
And don't speak  
When one more word would kill me  
Saying that you love me proves  
Lying tongues are clumsy

Don't think that this will be easy  
Saying that you love me  
Lying tongues are clumsy  
And don't speak when one more word would kill me  
Saying that you love me  
When lying tongues are clumsy

I paint you pictures all night long  
And tell you tales how every song  
And let you know that you're the reason why I'm home

…

**OMWGNOTE: **I'm really just changing the author's note here and taking out the lyrics to post them in another chapter.

So I want to say that I worked my _butt_ off on this freaking story. I looked up a map of Minnesota to find a town far from Minneapolis but close to Duluth (because they mention playing Duluth East in Big Time Terror) so that the story would be more accurate. Little Marais is a legitimate town in Minnesota, and is around a four hour drive from there to Minneapolis. I also added Shane to the story because James Maslow played Shane on iCarly, and I thought it would be that much more angsty If I had James deal with a little brother in the mix as well.

I really appreciate all of the favorites I've gotten, but I would _really_ like you to review if you favorite. Because I know you liked it if you favorite it, but I want to know WHAT you liked. It helps me with the possible companion piece I'm doing for it.


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